


In Darkness and In Light

by reeses



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revelation Route Spoilers, Trigger Warnings, blind!au, gender-neutral corrin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:25:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeses/pseuds/reeses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corrin has only experienced the world through touch, sound, smell, and (to a lesser extent) taste.</p><p>(Follows canon but expands upon the plot. Also possibly major Revelation spoilers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this au](http://adilia-the-kouhai.tumblr.com/tagged/Blind%21Corrin-AU) b/c omg it's so beautiful??
> 
> Also Corrin identifies as agender or gender-neutral for this fic and goes by they/them pronouns!!

Corrin has only experienced the world through touch, sound, smell, and (to a lesser extent) taste.

Corrin likes the days when their siblings come in to visit them (especially the days when they all come in at once). Xander still likes to hold Corrin’s hand whenever the two walk down the long spiral staircase of the Tower. Corrin’s favorite pastime with Xander is when he teaches Corrin how to play the piano. Camilla sometimes brings gifts of perfumes and fabrics—Corrin’s favorite scent sits on their nightstand so they can sleep soundly to the smell of roses and dream of warm embraces. Leo reads aloud his history texts like captivating epics, usually involving his talent for grandiose voice acting. (He begs Corrin to keep his storytelling a secret, despite the fact that the rest of their siblings already know.) Elise drags Corrin around with her to explore the Tower and play with the others. Initially Jakob was hesitant to join them in their fun, but now he regularly plays the seeker in Elise’s hide-and-seek games.

One day, Xander is insistent on teaching Corrin to wield a sword, just as Corrin is usually adamant on Xander teaching them music. Corrin doesn’t think too much of it, since it’s probably time for Corrin to begin training like the rest of their siblings. The first time Corrin holds a metal blade properly, something fierce grows in their chest. Corrin manages to put a name to the feeling as their blades meet with ringing clangs and each strike shaking Corrin to the core— _power_. It feels like something that Corrin can wield in their hands, something that finally rids Corrin of the helplessness they’ve felt their entire life.

The first sparring session ends with shallow cuts and some deep bruises, much to Camilla’s and Elise’s (and Leo’s, despite his contrary claims) collective distress. Corrin only feels an exhilarating _rush_ that flows freely in their blood. It's the most risk they've taken and it was, for a lack of a better word,  _freeing_. But the sisters team up and scold Xander for being too rough on their sibling, while Leo simply snarks at his brother alongside them while treating Corrin’s injuries. (Corrin wants their siblings to stop coddling them, but they don't want anymore fussing than there is so they keep quiet. For now.) The Crown Prince of Nohr is too caught off-guard to defend himself from his younger siblings' chiding.

But Xander continues the training after all, thankfully.

 

* * *

 

It is one of those days when Corrin is training with Xander when Father calls for a meeting with Corrin. Corrin is excited with the opportunity to finally leave the Tower, while Xander frets. Father has never called for a meeting with Corrin specifically, and that worries him.

“Don’t worry, brother,” Corrin assures, holding Xander’s hand as they climb down from the roof of the Tower. “I’ll be fine. Father wouldn’t put me through a test I couldn’t handle.”

At that, Xander holds Corrin’s hand tighter. “I want you to be safe.”

There’s a warning in his voice. _Be careful._

Corrin swallows the lump in their throat and squeezes back. “Okay.”

They do not let go of each other, even as they step outside the Tower and towards the Castle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corrin is thrown into battle with a sword they don't want.

When Corrin’s fingers wrap around the hilt of Ganglari, they feel uneasy.

The blade feels _wrong_ in their hands. It feels malicious.

But Corrin holds their tongue because Ganglari is a gift from Father and they should not dare question him about his questionable taste in swords. (Besides, Iago might raise a hissy fit and ridicule Corrin for making such a comment.)

Corrin bows their head and says, “Thank you for your generous gift, Father.”

King Garon rumbles his acknowledgement. “Now, let us see you put that sword to its proper use…”

Well, that’s a little sooner than expected.

“Bring them out.” he orders, not to Corrin but to the guards at his side.

Corrin inhales sharply at the sound of shuffling footsteps and clinking chains. The sounds stop not far from Corrin.

“These are the prisoners from our most recent skirmish with Hoshido.” King Garon explains offhandedly, as if he’s describing the weather. But his voice turns hard when he commands, “Strike them down with your blade. Show me you’re worth something even with your eyes.”

Corrin swallows down the hurt and keeps their head high.

“I will not fail you, Father.”

He does not say anything in return.

“Take your places.” King Garon announces, and nothing more.

Corrin straightens their back and holds Ganglari tighter. This is their opportunity to earn Father’s respect and finally leave the Northern Fortress for good. They didn’t train through blood, sweat, and tears to fail here.

They can hear the heavy clangs of chains being removed from the prisoners. Corrin feels a weight lift from their shoulders slightly. At least, this will be a fair fight and not an outright execution. There’s a familiar clanking of armor that catches her ears, along with precise steps that match with their loyal butler. Some of the unease building up in Corrin’s stomach subsides when Jakob gently places a hand on their arm and guides Corrin towards the arena, as Gunter follows behind the two.

This evens out the numbers from one against four to three against four, much to Corrin’s guilty relief.

As soon as they step into the wide arena, Corrin senses something primal within the ground, some distances away. They take note of this as they start scanning their surroundings. The air echoes with each step—the arena must be big enough to handle more than a dozen people. The ground under their feet feels like rocky soil, which makes detecting footsteps easier. This is their home territory, and Corrin will make use of every advantage the terrain has to offer them.

“Jakob, Gunter,” Corrin begins as the fighters prepare for battle. “I am glad to have you both on my side.”

“Please, master, the honor is all mine.” Jakob replies.

“It’s no trouble on my part—just as long as you remember your training and concentrate.” Gunter advises.

Corrin nods in Gunter’s direction. “Yes sir.”

And then the fight starts with an ominous clink of metal from both sides.

Corrin wastes no time in rushing towards the energy from earlier. If it’s anything like Corrin faced in sparring lessons with Xander, then this dragon vein should help tide the battle in their favor.

Corrin reaches the vein after barely dodging a dagger (it sounds just a little different than dagger—probably something Hoshidan). Raw, untapped power flows through their veins and it’s almost terrifying. But Corrin needs to focus on the battle—needs to focus on creating cover so the three of them can form a plan of attack.

Winds whip about Corrin’s face as the sound of debris clattering and flying away reaches their ears.

“Excellent! The fort is clear!” Jakob praises, coming up beside Corrin sounding vaguely like he’s catching his breath. “A fine job as usual. Come, let us hurry along.”

Corrin nods and lets Jakob lead them towards the fort. They can hear Gunter coming up behind them on his mount.

All three rush inside and it’s then that Corrin realizes that the fort feels so old. Corrin wonders if the fort can protect the three of them for so long. Gunter dismounts from his war steed and claps a hand on Corrin’s shoulder.

“Good work on finding that dragon vein.” the old man says. “Now all we need to do is think about how we’re going to fight back.”

Corrin already has an idea.

“Jakob can be lookout and take down the enemy from afar,” Corrin blurts out, “since he’s good at long-range. Right?”

The butler in question hums in agreement. “Indeed I am. I will carry out your orders to best of my abilities.”

Corrin nods with a small, grateful grin and turns to wherever Gunter is. “Gunter, you’re more experienced than the two of us— you’ll handle defense and keep them from storming in here.”

It takes a second or two before the old man makes a questioning hum that’s usually followed with criticism. Corrin braces theirself.

“I won’t be able to stop them from coming in. There’s another side to this fort that’s also exposed.”

That gives Corrin pause. There are two exposed sides?

“Well, then I’ll just have to help you keep the enemy out.” Corrin replies. “Lead me to the other opening and I will defend it.”

No one says anything for a few seconds until they’re all forced to act when the shouting from outside grow louder—the enemies are close.

“Hurry, this way.”

Gunter sharply taps Corrin’s shoulder and takes off in a direction that Corrin tries hard to follow. The sound of his clanking armor bounces off everywhere, but Corrin sharpens their focus on the main source and blocking out the other miscellaneous noise.

“There are two incoming headed your way, Master Corrin.” Jakob calls from his station.

Corrin feels the fort’s stone walls as Gunter stops.

“Gunter, go help Jakob.” Corrin says.

He doesn’t move.

“Gunter,” Corrin hisses, “go. Do not waste anymore time—I can handle this.”

“So can that butler of yours.” the old man gruffly replies. “You, on the other hand, haven’t much experience on the battlefield.”

Corrin scoffs, bewildered and outraged. “What, is this because I’m blind and helpless?”

Gunter lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re afraid. I can tell.”

Somewhere in the distance, Jakob exchanges blows with an enemy by himself. Somewhere outside of this fort, King Garon sits and watches every move that Corrin makes, judging if Corrin is worthy enough to be let out from the Tower and stay in the royal family. Somewhere, Xander, Camilla, Leo, and Elise are all waiting on their hands, worrying if Corrin will make it.

Here, Corrin is tired and furious and scared and, above all, determined.

“Gunter. I will not repeat myself.” Corrin presses. “I’ve spent _years_ training for this moment. _Don’t take this away from me._ Go help Jakob.”

Just from the air alone, Corrin can tell that Gunter is reeling.

“Corrin, I’m saying this is for your own good—”

“And leaving Jakob alone to fight two men on this own is not my own good. _Go._ ”

And with that, the old man reluctantly turns away from Corrin and gallops to Jakob’s side. As the Hoshidans close in, Corrin can only hope and pray to whatever gods are left to guide Corrin on their path.

For the first time, Corrin feels incredibly vulnerable.

But they won’t let it consume them. Corrin has had far too much practice suppressing fear and transforming it into heightened awareness.

They meet the incoming blade head-on, never faltering in their force nor their conviction to win. The swordsman attempts to push past Corrin’s guard to land a hit, but Corrin manages to push their enemy off. Sensing the air move swiftly, hearing the breathing pattern change, feeling movement—Corrin parries another blow and rams Ganglari into the enemy’s chest in one swift move.

It isn’t enough to pierce the armor, but it’s enough to push the enemy back. Without another warning, Corrin closes the distance and slashes upward and hopes that they’ve hit the mark.

Something warm and wet sprays Corrin’s face and there’s a horrible, horrible gurgling sound from the enemy. Then, something collapses and the enemy doesn’t breathe anymore. Corrin comes to a sickening realization that they’ve slashed the swordsman’s throat.

For a brief moment, Corrin is selfishly glad for being blind.

Corrin is startled back into the present when another dagger misses their face by mere inches. Corrin falls back into a defensive stance, belatedly registers that they’re out in the open from the scuffle. The enemy’s footsteps are slow, calculative—until they falter for the slightest second.

“It can’t be…” a smooth, masculine voice whispers. But then the enemy recovers quickly enough that Corrin wonders if they’ve imagined it all.

“I am Kaze, a ninja of Hoshido.” The same voice, now clearer and louder, informs Corrin. Then his voice takes on a dark undertone. “My shuriken may not cut deep, but it can sap you of your strength. Your death need not come all at once.”

And with that, the ninja throws three of his shurikens at Corrin.

With an unnatural speed that surprises even Corrin, Corrin deflects two of the shurikens with their blade. The last one nicks Corrin’s cheek.

Corrin has to be very careful around this one.

“You are blind.”

It’s not a provocation, but a statement. If Corrin could, they’d roll their eyes but, instead, they listen to the ninja’s footsteps. The two circle around each other, always at a distance. The ninja’s breathing and the telltale sound of metal clinking. He’s drawn out more shurikens. From the air, Corrin can’t tell where the ninja might strike next.

“Why are you here?”

This time those words are construed as a provocation, prodding at the chinks in Corrin’s ego. Studying with Xander and Leo has taught Corrin this: ninjas are master manipulators.

“To demonstrate Nohr’s power.” Corrin replies carefully, knowing full well that Garon’s eyes and ears are on them.

Then Corrin strikes before the ninja can.

But blade meets air and the only sign of the ninja moving is a slight breeze shifting to Corrin’s left. Barely in time, Corrin rolls to their right to avoid another volley of shurikens. _Don’t waste energy, don’t waste time_ , Xander’s lessons flash through Corrin’s head as Corrin pushes theirself on their feet in one fluid motion.

The ninja is behind them.

Corrin whips around to catch the dagger aiming for their throat with a bare hand. Corrin hisses at the sharp blade digging into sensitive skin, but Corrin drags their hand down until they wrap around the ninja’s and hold the dagger to his throat as well as bringing Ganglari to the other side of the ninja’s neck at the same time.

“Checkmate.” Corrin all but growls out.

A moment of silence filled with quiet pants passes between Corrin and Kaze.

“Kill me.” Kaze says quietly. Now Corrin understands why a ninja of his caliber was going easy on Corrin—because he never expected to walk out of this arena alive.

One of Corrin’s fingers twitches, but Corrin doesn’t make another move. Even if Corrin had killed his comrade mere moments ago, they hesitate. If there’s one thing that Xander, Leo, and Camilla failed to teach Corrin, it is death. No matter how much Corrin had begged them to take Corrin with them to battle, they had refused each time because they would much rather prefer their naive, innocent sibling to stay free from bloodshed like Elise.

Too late for that now.

“I’m sorry.” Corrin replies, just as quietly if not quieter. An unbidden tear streaks down Corrin’s face. “I’m sorry.”

And Corrin begins to realize the weight of the sins their siblings bear as soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suuuuuper late but I'M ALIVE. I just didn't know where to go next but now I have a semi-solid idea where this is going. Please leave a kudos or comment if you like! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corrin changes, for better or worse.

It’s been two days since the battle and liberation of Rinkah and Kaze.

Corrin hasn’t been speaking much, going as far as locking out all of their siblings. Xander fretted, Camilla was anxious, Leo was hurt, and, worst of all, Elise was devastated.

At first, Elise thought it was because of Corrin’s confrontation with Father, but Xander was a witness to the battle. He wouldn’t tell her anything, but she has a vague idea that Corrin did something terrible. And her heart broke for Corrin when she first had that thought.

She can’t imagine how Corrin is faring, if she’s being honest with herself, but it must be lonely at the very least.

And Father too—he’s been very, very quiet. It’s driving Xander, Leo, and Camilla up the walls, and (just a little) scaring Elise. Father rarely (if at all) forgives disobedience and Corrin is undoubtedly in trouble, from what Elise gathered from Xander’s furrowed brow, Leo’s scowl, and Camilla’s deep frown. There’s no telling how Father will lash out at Corrin. And the siblings simply cannot let Corrin get hurt.

Elise just has to make these things right again. She knows she can.

And she’s doing her part by standing just outside of the throne room and listening in. For Iago to talk like that… Elise’s clenches her hands into fists. That man is evil, through and through. How dare he speak of Corrin like that? And why is he so bent on kicking Corrin out? And why is Father not defending her sibling? Even if Corrin had made a mistake, Father shouldn’t be so… so _cold_ towards Corrin. Though Elise would have to worry about that later. She needs to help Corrin.

Keeping her steps quiet, Elise quickly slips away from her hiding place. If there’s anything she truly likes most about being small, other than being able to go for piggyback rides on Xander, it’s that she can sneak into a lot of places. Which is why she can steal pastries from the kitchen and not get caught by the loud baker on her way out.

Hopefully the baker won’t mind that one or five treats have gone missing. Elise chows down on a soft chocolate chip cookie as she makes her way back to her room to strategize and greets passing servants and maids on her way back.

Then she hears something just as she’s about to pass by Corrin’s assigned room—sniffles and barely held back cries.

Elise immediately stops and turns to the door. She tests the doorknob and finds it unlocked for the first time in two days. Well she’s not about to just walk away now! She swings open Corrin’s door and lets herself in before closing the door behind her.

There, she finds Corrin curled up into a ball against the side of the cot.

“Hey,” Elise calls out softly through cookie crumbs.

Corrin doesn’t look up for so long that Elise wonders if Corrin is sleep-crying. Then, a tear-stained face tentatively emerges from crossed arms.

“Elise?” Corrin calls.

“Yeah, it’s me.” she confirms.

Elise pads over to Corrin, sits down next to them, and nudges a raspberry tart into Corrin’s cheek. “It’s your favorite,” she says.

Just as Corrin is about to gently decline, Elise shoves the tart into Corrin’s open mouth. Corrin makes a high-pitched, surprised noise. Corrin quickly catches the tart before it can fall and (somewhat reluctantly) chews through the first bite. A big grin stretches Elise’s face. _Victory._

“It’s really tasty, isn’t it?” Elise chirps and takes another bite from her cookie.

Corrin hums in agreement and swallows. “Thanks, Elise.”

They eat their stolen treats in silence. Elise is the first to finish.

She doesn’t wait for Corrin to finish eating to wrap her arms (awkwardly) around Corrin. Immediately, Corrin shifts and stretches their legs out to accommodate their little sibling. Elise curls up around Corrin and nuzzles into the crook between Corrin’s neck and shoulder. A hand wraps around Elise and pats her head.

“I’m sorry.” Corrin says after gulping down the last of the tart. “You must’ve been upset.”

Elise playfully hits Corrin’s shoulder, earning a muffled “ow”.

“You didn’t play with me in the past two days! I’ve been so bored!” Elise whines. “And Xander, Leo, and Camilla have been kicking up a storm ever since, well, you know.”

In reply, Corrin squeezes Elise’s shoulders. “Sorry.”

Elise harrumphs. “Then make it up to me with lots of love and hugs and kisses.”

She squeals when Corrin peppers her face with kisses and tickles her. But Elise attacks Corrin’s sides with a vengeance and Corrin sputters and squirms in reply. They both laugh for first time in what seems like a long while. It’s nice acting their age, like children. When the two come down from their giddiness, Corrin wraps their arms around Elise and lays their head atop hers.

“Thank you.”

Elise makes a lilting questioning noise. “What for?”

Corrin just laughs quietly. “For being you. You’re like a light in the dark, you know?”

Silly Corrin as always. Elise giggles. “So are you.”

Corrin doesn’t respond except to hug Elise tighter.

 

* * *

 

 Elise squeezes her older sibling’s hand. They’ll be okay. They’ll _both_ be okay.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” she assures.

Corrin squeezes back as an assurance of their own. “I know.”

They do not let go of each other, even as the ominous doors open before them and they step into the throne room.

 

* * *

 

Corrin bids their siblings goodbye and gives them all a tight hug.

Hopefully whatever gods have aided Corrin in that battle will have enough mercy on Corrin to aid them again. At the very least, Corrin has Jakob and Gunter again.

Xander’s warning rings clear in Corrin’s head when they consider Hans. He sounds like the perfect soldier, but something about him seems off. His words are curt, the air around him is unnerving, the fact that Iago hinted at some sort of test. Father’s mission and Iago’s barely veiled sneer adds up to something more than some simple errand to check on an abandoned fort. Why would checking a fort near Nohr’s borders be a test? Unless something’s waiting for them there.

Corrin’s blood runs cold at that thought, even as they mount their horse (named Cedric, by Xander). Corrin searches for Cedric’s ears and scratches behind them fondly. Cedric whickers as a form of greeting and the sound eases some of Corrin’s anxiety. Riding has never been Corrin’s strength, but they’re good enough that they can ride out to the fort without slowing the pace.

“We are ready to leave, Master Corrin.” Gunter says.

Things between Corrin and Gunter have been slightly strained since that battle. Corrin still feels slighted by Gunter’s lack of confidence in Corrin.

“Then we depart immediately.” Corrin replies curtly. “Lead the way.”

Gunter’s voice doesn’t change. “Yes sir.”

Jakob briefly informs Corrin that he’ll be riding beside Corrin for the duration of the trip and Corrin replies with an affirmative hum. Corrin feels a vicious foreboding curling in their insides. Then guilt follows when Corrin hears Gunter spur his horse onward. Maybe Corrin was too petty. Maybe they should—

No. He’s the first person to teach Corrin that blindness never meant weakness. He _betrayed_ Corrin.

Pride is what makes Corrin swallow down an apology. The old man, of all people, shouldn’t assume that Corrin is weak for their blindness. There might be a day when Corrin forgives him, but that day isn’t today.

The foreboding keeps coiling around and around Corrin's heart.

 

* * *

 

“Look out—!”

Those are Gunter’s last words before the bridge collapses below him. Corrin’s hands reach out a second too late, fingers fleetingly brush against leather, then fists close around nothing.

Someone screams and Corrin belatedly realizes the screaming is coming from them. Mind-numbing grief rips through Corrin’s soul. Then the ugly laughter from Gunter’s  _murderer_ ignites white-hot fury. Grief, paired with anger, has never ended well for anyone.

“Now all that’s left is the sightless rat.” Hans sneers as he readies for another blow, preferably to crack Corrin’s skull wide open.

But he doesn’t get the chance when Corrin stands up and catches the blade of the axe with a monstrously clawed hand. His laughter immediately dies.

“What the hell…”

Corrin does not relent, does not falter. Corrin wrenches the axe from Hans’s grip as if taking a toy from a child, then easily flings it aside. Corrin steps over the missing slats— _where Gunter fell_ —and advances towards Hans. Vengeance consumes Corrin to the point where their arms begin to numb and rebuild themselves into something else. Not the most appropriate response to anger, but it works anyway.

With one clawed hand, Corrin lifts Hans by his throat and dangles him an inch above the dangerously creaking bridge.

 _“Why?”_ Corrin’s voice sounds more ancient and _powerful_.

The murderer ekes out, “K-King— _guh_ —Garon ordered me to—”

Corrin drops him. Hans lands harshly, almost breaking another slat and nearly falling into the canyon. He shuffles back, pleading mercy. How _pathetic_.

A steady rage roars in Corrin’s blood. No, it’s not rage either—it’s an all-consuming _bloodthirst_ that compels Corrin to lift Ganglari against the murderer.

“You should’ve begged for mercy the moment you underestimated me.”

Just as Corrin is about to land the killing blow, they’re thrown off the bridge.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Something small and squeaky and scaly catches Corrin’s shoulders in mid-fall. The world around Corrin fades into nothing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Corrin wakes up dazed, unsure where they’ve landed. A vicious pain rages in their head—Corrin hisses and tries to massage their temples but claws scratch at their forehead instead. Corrin flinches back. What happened to their hands?

“Corrin?” a familiar high-pitched voice asks.

“Lilith? Is that you?” Corrin searches for her with stumbling hands—er, claws. “Where are you?”

A small scaled hand that doesn’t feel human caresses Corrin’s forehead. And, for some (lack of) reason, Corrin feels theirself relax instead of tense under the touch. The pain lessens significantly and the scratches don’t sting anymore. Corrin is about to reach up and return the touch, but quickly remembers the state of their hands and stops. They lower their clawed fingers to the soft grass beneath them.

“I’m right here,” Lilith assures, her voice putting Corrin further at ease with its familiarity. “Take deep breaths.”

And Corrin inhales deep—the air feels fresh and crisp in their lungs. For the first time, Corrin does not feel the air suffocate their lungs. It’s not as heavy as Nohr’s air, but it carries something magical that Corin can’t pinpoint. And none of the smells around them are familiar either—they’re too sweet, too strange to be from Nohr. There is nothing Nohrian about this place, yet it feels familiar all the same. Corrin isn’t sure how to feel about this place, wherever it is.

“Where are we?” Corrin tentatively asks after the tension leaves their limbs.

“A world parallel to yours, Master Corrin.” Lilith replies gently. “We are on an astral plane.”

Just as Corrin is about to ask another question, they feel the skin of the arms and hands peel off on its own accord. Corrin starts violently but Lilith grips their shoulders with steady hands.

“Easy.” Lilith soothes. “You’re releasing your draconic transformation.”

Confusion twists Corrin’s face. “Excuse me, my what?”

Lilith doesn’t reply at first, instead busying herself with wiping off whatever the hell is on Corrin’s arms. Hesitantly, Corrin twitches a claw—and twitches their finger instead. Corrin flexes their hands and finds that the strange claws that awkwardly took up the space of their fingers have vanished. Corrin can touch their face normally again without scratching it up.

Then Lilith lets go of Corrin, much to the latter’s slight panic, but calms Corrin with her composed voice. “Your dragon blood is starting to wake up now. That’s why you transformed back on the bridge.”

It takes a few seconds for Corrin to fully understand. Corrin furrows their brow, confused. “But my siblings also have dragon blood. Do they transform too?”

Silence greets Corrin for a moment. Then, “No. You’re a bit more special. Your blood is more pure than the other ones. Their blood come from bloodlines that have changed throughout time.”

That… still doesn’t make sense. Lilith seems to notice this and giggles at Corrin’s unending confusion. Corrin pouts, then remembers the Bottomless Canyon.

“Wait, what happened after I fell? How did you even catch me in time?”

Lilith doesn’t answer until Corrin presses her. “Well… I followed your party after you’d all left on your mission. I got there a little after the confrontation ended, but…”

Corrin feels their heart twist at the implication. She was too late to save Gunter.

“I had to sacrifice my human form to catch you,” Lilith finishes after an uncomfortable silence. She hesitantly adds, “I am actually a dragon.”

Corrin snorts. “No kidding. Is that how you know all this?”

Lilith hums her confirmation.

The silence that follows is much more comfortable than the last, with Corrin carefully processing everything. Then Corrin breaks the quiet once more.

“Thank you, Lilith.” Corrin says, and the words somehow mean something more.

Corrin searches out Lilith’s new form again and finds her vaguely familiar, small, scaly body. They tentatively wrap their arms around her. Wings (or fins, whatever they are) brush against Corrin’s shoulders comfortingly. “Never knew the baby wyvern I found all those years ago would turn out to be you.”

Corrin isn’t quite sure if they’ll ever get used to the sound of Lilith’s content reptilian humming. Somehow it reminds Corrin of a small cat.

“It will take time for you to adjust. For now, you must rest,” she advises.

“Okay.”

And they quietly bask in each other’s quiet company for a while. They’re both alive and that’s all that really matters.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I tried disjointed narration but I'm not sure if it's working?? Pls lemme know in the comments how you think and kudos if you like this chapter!
> 
> Also as a sidenote: I won't be here for the next two days because I'll be in New York at KCon!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Corrin is is confronted with some terrible revelations.

 

 

Lilith leads Corrin into the new treehouse and Corrin is surprised by how far up they have to walk just to get to the door. The spiral staircase doesn’t help either.

“It’s the best spot,” Lilith reasons playfully. “Master Corrin deserves only the best!”

Corrin would beg to differ.

Sitting alone in a lofty treehouse on a comfy cot does not do anything to salve the creeping loneliness of this place. The only other being for company is Lilith, and she’s too busy preparing this astral plane to “accommodate Corrin’s tastes”. Corrin would help, but Lilith points out the battering Corrin took in the impromptu battle at Bottomless Canyon. After some healing magic and bandaging (Corrin still isn’t sure how Lilith accomplished wrapping the bandages with such small claws), Corrin was ordered to bedrest. Any protests were swiftly answered with calm explanations and stern scolding.

Apparently, time passes faster in the astral planes than in Corrin’s world. And much of that time in the astral plane is spent defying Lilith’s orders anyway and training to keep their body in top shape. Lilith, at this point, has given up on keeping Corrin to bed. In spite of that, they still manage to strike up a kinship in the span of what feels like a brief amount of time. Lilith’s favorite food is fish and berries—an odd combination, but endearing nonetheless—and Corrin had promised her that they’d procure some for her. In turn, Corrin had told Lilith their dream to see the world. How cruel and fleeting that simple, useless dream seems now.

Ganglari is a different matter altogether.

From the moment the sword was placed in Corrin’s hands, Corrin knew something was wrong with it. But Corrin would’ve never suspected that the sword would try to _kill_ them. The only sword in Corrin’s possession is Ganglari and, unless some wind mage appeared out of nowhere to fling Corrin off the bridge, Ganglari moved all on its own accord with such brute might that it took Corrin down with it in the damning depths of the Bottomless Canyon. What’s even more jarring is that the sword followed Corrin into the astral plane too, its malicious presence always near and relentless. Are swords even capable of having a will of their own? Then again, Father had mentioned that it was a sword from another realm or something…

Corrin pauses. Then mulls over calling King Garon their father anymore, especially after what Hans said. Despite their siblings’ frequent reassurances, Corrin was never quite convinced that Father had ever thought of Corrin the same way he thought of the rest of his children. Thinking back on it now, Corrin starts to realize all the small, overlooked inconsistencies that are beginning to pile into something inexplicably big and very, very terrible.

The fact that Corrin was kept in a separate tower away from their siblings. The way Corrin was carefully isolated to the point where Corrin’s only company were servants and the occasional appearance of Gunter. (Corrin takes a moment to berate theirself for not forgiving Gunter when they had the chance—or, worse yet, not saving him when he was _right in front of them_.) The way that Corrin had only ever seen Father as an unwelcoming, cruel, and vicious man with a certain disdain in his voice. In fact, the last time Corrin met with King Garon he sounded almost like… almost like he wanted to squash Corrin like an insect.

And that sets off another volley of alarming questions in Corrin’s head.

Why did King Garon send Corrin out on a mission he personally sabotaged? Why go to such lengths to punish Corrin like this instead of with a swift death? Why give Corrin that damnable sword? The more Corrin thinks about it, the more clearer King Garon’s motives become.

Corrin is being used as an expendable pawn. But for what kind of scheme, Corrin doesn’t know. And it unnerves them. Suddenly Corrin regrets skipping out on politics and tactics lessons with Leo. Corrin comes to have a new appreciation and respect for Leo’s clearly superior mental acuity, no matter how whiny he can be about it.

A fond smile tugs at Corrin’s lips at the memory of Leo sputtering over leaving his collar inside out again. Then Corrin’s lips twist worriedly, wondering how their siblings are holding up with Corrin’s absence and Gunter’s death. So much had gone wrong so quickly. They flex their fingers, the ghostly sensation of scales and claws still clinging to their fingers.

Time feels ethereal, abstract in the astral plane because of the constant cool temperature and no fluctuation in the environment (now that Lilith was done using dragon veins to build fields and buildings) whatsoever. Corrin decides that they’d very much prefer their world over this one, no matter how nice the grass feels under their touch and how light the air feels in their lungs. The comforting weight of Nohr’s air had always helped soothe Corrin.

As if reading their thoughts, Lilith is beside Corrin within moments and asks, “Are you ready?”

The wounds have mostly healed by now. The jostling and straining with Corrin’s self training haven’t impeded on the healing process at all, strangely enough. One of the perks for having “pure” dragon blood, perhaps? Whatever the hell _that_ means.

Corrin agitatedly taps their bare feet. “I want to see everyone again.”

“Of course. But I must warn you, there’s no telling how much time has passed once I transport you back with the First Dragons’ will. Seconds, minutes, hours, days even might have passed since your stay here.”

“How long have I been _here_?”

“About two weeks.”

Corrin throws their hands up in part incredulity and part frustration. “ _Lovely!_  I would really love to get back _now_ , if you don’t mind.”

Lilith giggles. “Well, I won’t keep you waiting now. Come back with some food!”

Before Corrin can reply, the world violently shifts around them and everything grows cold.

 

* * *

 

It takes a few seconds to recognize the barren ground under Corrin’s feet and the telltale smell of lightning lingering in the air.

Figures that Corrin would be back in this godsawful place. Figures that Ganglari decided to follow Corrin back into this world too, but its presence has significantly muted. (Not a good thing, Corrin decides.) And, wonderfully enough, _figures_ that Corrin still has no clue where to go past Bottomless Canyon let alone how to navigate out of this hellhole. Not to mention that there’s no one else around either. It’s chillingly empty as the winds howl ominously around Corrin.

Besides, this is the place where Gunter died.

Corrin kneels, sword at their side, and quietly mourns their mentor. After all, he’d meant a lot to Corrin. So many things left unsaid (one of them, of course, would’ve been the words “thank you for being the father I never had”), so many things Corrin left unfinished (one of them, of course, would’ve been to resolve their last, insignificantly petty, one-sided fight between them). Corrin prays that the gods watch over Gunter’s spirit. This is the least they can do.

After a while of meditative silence, Corrin shakily gets up on their feet.

Pain explodes at the back of Corrin’s skull.

Corrin falls forward and lands on rocky ground. The world fades out into nothing.

 

* * *

 

When Corrin wakes up, stiff and sore with a pounding headache, they decide to make someone’s day awful. Preferably the someone who knocked Corrin out in the first place, if possible.

They rise from their bed (hard, unyielding wooden floor) and immediately smell and hear a bubbling broth of some sort. (The pang of hunger rippling through Corrin isn’t helping things.) Heat, slightly too much to be comfortable, radiates from somewhere at Corrin’s left. Where the hell are they now? Someone shifts across from Corrin.

“Mornin’, princess.” a vaguely familiar voice greets gruffly.

Corrin frowns. “Actually, I prefer princet.”

“Ah. Sorry.”

Corrin merely shrugs. “’S fine.”

The scrape of a ladle against bowl and sloshing of broth has Corrin’s mouth watering. All previous plans are thrown out the window at that point. Ruining their kidnapper’s day can wait after Corrin eats or something. As far as Corrin can tell, they haven’t eaten well for days. (All the food in the astral plane is mainly an unpleasant combination of milk and some radish Lilith called “daikon”.)

“Here, eat up.” the voice (sounds like it belongs to a woman) says.

Corrin holds their hands up, waiting for the bowl to come into their hands. A few awkward seconds pass until the other person clears her throat.

“ _Here._ ” she says, a little more insistent.

Corrin bites their lip as embarrassed heat floods their face. “Um. Where?”

A disbelieving scoff. “What, are you blind? It’s right in front of you.”

“I _am_ blind.”

A horribly long, humiliating moment passes between the two.

“Oh.”

Some stilted instructions and a few fumbles later, Corrin cradles a warm wooden bowl. Corrin sips from the bowl instead of bothering to use the included spoon. Much to their surprise, the soup is more watery than creamy and it tastes of fresh vegetables (something hard to come by in Nohr) and savory meat. It’s much lighter than what Corrin is used to, but just as filling. Corrin decides to use the spoon anyway to shovel bits of beef and carrots into their mouth.

“This is good,” Corrin comments halfway through their meal.

A bemused (or amused?) huff. “You must’ve been starving.”

“You have no idea.”

Milk and radishes can only be tolerated for so long.

Then the conversation (though Corrin wonders if it can be called that) tapers off into an uncomfortable silence. Corrin shifts around, partly to get a feel of the room and partly out of an itch to move. A crisp breeze flutters into the room through a wide opening to Corrin’s right. Maybe an open door? If so, who leaves a door wide open like that? It doesn’t feel cold enough to be night time either…

Before Corrin realizes it, the bowl is empty. Corrin sets it down and wipes off some excess soup from their mouth.

“So, where are we?” Corrin asks without preamble.

“We’re in one of the villages of the Flame Tribe,” she replies with a hint of pride coloring her tone.

Corrin manages a half-hearted curl of their lips. “Then you’re Rinkah, right? From the arena?”

Rinkah sighs. “Took you long enough to figure me out.”

“Not exactly,” Corrin replies. “I still haven’t figured out why you clubbed me over the head and kidnapped me.”

“What do you think?” Rinkah returns with a sarcastic edge.

It takes a second for Corrin to understand. _The battle._

Corrin groans and rubs their eyes tiredly. It was only a matter of time before someone would have to answer for the attack. And, as luck would have it, Corrin would have to be the proverbial sacrificial lamb in place of the actual culprit. Maybe it’s just too much to expect justice to fall on the right person this time. Or maybe it _has_ , since Corrin didn’t stop the brute from killing that Hoshidan. If they had, then none of this would’ve happened. Either way, their siblings aren’t here to protect Corrin from whatever fate Hoshido has in store for Corrin.

And Corrin is sure Hoshido is out for blood.

“Damn.” They finally bite out with a bitter sigh. “I guess this is where my story ends.”

Rinkah hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”

Corrin isn't sure what  _that_ meant, but they stubbornly brood over their fate anyway.

 

* * *

 

Rinkah and Kaze escort Corrin to the Shirasagi Castle.

Reuniting with the ninja is all but a quiet and unassuming affair. But afterwards the journey to the castle is quiet and awkward and tense. There are days when Corrin wonders if they’ll die at the hands of their entourages instead of the royal family. There are days when the company has to pass through Hoshidan villages, towns, and cities. It’s not hard to ignore the hatred and anger in the civilians’ voices—what’s hard to ignore is the disgust and pity when they find that Corrin is blind.

Camilla taught Corrin to be brave, to hold their head high, and to never surrender. She taught them that their blindness was not shameful. So why is it that the bitter twist in Corrin’s chest feels a lot like shame?

Corrin tucks the shame away someplace else and masks its absence with careful neutrality. It’s better to feel numb than to rage uselessly over a decided fact that Corrin cannot change. But Corrin wishes they can see so they can glare daggers at anyone who so much as whispers about them behind their back.

Before Corrin realizes it, the company makes it to the capital surrounding the castle. The reality of Corrin’s situation hits them full force once Corrin is escorted past the guards and into the castle.

Would the Hoshidans even put Corrin on trial? Or would they call for an execution by the day’s end? Or, worse yet, would they torture and interrogate Corrin to betray information on Nohr? (Not that Corrin knows much about Nohrian movement these days. After all, look where it got them: captured in enemy land.)

Corrin can’t pay attention to whatever Kaze or Rinkah are saying, but Corrin manages to understand that they’re standing in the throne room. In front of the Queen and High Prince of Hoshido. Dread churns in their stomach.

Instead of any of the imagined scenarios happening, Corrin feels the wind knocked out of them when a tender, motherly voice says,

“Welcome home, Kamui.”

Corrin freezes when warm, unfamiliar arms wrap around Corrin and tug them close to an even more unfamiliar body.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'M BACK!! i'm not too sure about this new chapter but pls leave a kudos and/or comment if you liked it! :'D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Corrin reveals some things about theirself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for misgendering, using a dead name, and some ableism.

 

 

Corrin is absolutely frightened.

They are alone in enemy territory with no sign of rescue coming through—but what’s worse than that is the terrifying truth.

They were never a true Nohrian. Their name is _fake_. Their _family_ is fake. Their entire _life_ is fake.

So of course Corrin would shut theirself out from the others who claimed to be their “real” siblings. What’s even real anymore? If anything, this is one hell of a torture tactic. But… the warmth and sorrow in Queen Mikoto’s voice was unmistakable. The tears on her cheeks were real. Her smell was incredibly familiar and foreign all at once. If what Queen Mikoto said was true then—

Queen Mikoto is Corrin’s mother.

Corrin curls up in a ball, clutching their head and trying hard not to hyperventilate. What’s there to panic about anyway? It’s not like Corrin was ever interested in finding out who their mother was. They were happy with just a handful of people—their siblings, their mentor, their servants-turned-friends.

Until this mess started.

Now Corrin isn’t even sure of what to feel about King Garon anymore. Even if he was using Corrin as some kind of pawn, Corrin would like to think that maybe, somewhere behind his stony demeanor, he had a heart. After all, he was merciful towards Elise. He gave Corrin a gift. He—

kidnapped Corrin as a child and killed King Sumeragi. He even renamed Corrin just to get rid of all of Corrin’s ties to Hoshido. Why is Corrin trying to defend him?

This is all too much to think about.

Time crawls on slowly until Corrin’s breathing slows into a sleepier pace. Then they dream.

 

* * *

 

.

.

.

 

_A big, menacing creature wrapped in onyx and violet loomed over Corrin. Blood dripped down from a large, vicious axe nearby. Someone laid face down on the ground, unmoving and covered in red and arrows._

_“Poor thing.”_

_The monster stared straight into Corrin’s soul with cold eyes._

_Corrin shivered, taking a step back from the monster with a voice that rumbled like ominous thunder._

_“Orphaned at such… a tender young age.”_

_The monster took a step forward, easily closing the distance between Corrin and he. Corrin stumbled and fell down, but Corrin’s eyes were solely on the monster._

_A large hand reached for Corrin._

_“You’re_ my _child now.”_

 

_._

_._

_._

 

* * *

 

Corrin wakes up with a scream.

Someone bursts into the room—Corrin vaults from their bed and crawls away from the intruder. Footsteps approach Corrin.

“ _Don’t touch me._ ” Corrin rasps, still inching back. “ _Get away from me!_ ”

“Kamui…”

“My name is not Kamui!” Corrin screams. They cover their ears, curling up into a ball. This isn’t real. This is a dream too. “I’m Corrin. I’m a princet of Nohr. I’m at home in the tower, and Felicia and Flora are going to wake me up with their ice magic. I’m going to wake up at home. _I’m going to wake up at home._ ”

The last part comes out as a whimper.

Corrin flinches as a hand rests on their shoulder.

“Ka—Corrin, you _are_ home.”

The voice sounds nothing like Xander.

 

* * *

 

When Corrin wakes up the next morning, no one speaks of the incident from last night.

Which is a bit of a relief, since Corrin doesn’t want to be questioned about the incident. Corrin wants to avoid reliving it.

“This way,” Sakura says, timidly holding Corrin’s hand. Her hand is so small in Corrin’s—almost as small as Elise’s.

Corrin feels a lump form in their throat.

Sakura leads Corrin to the dining room for breakfast with the others. The castle’s interior is strange—the floor feels like it’s made of very smooth straw, and the doors are made of mostly paper and rods of wood. Instead of a doorknob, the doors glide open. Everything about the castle seems… open. If Corrin is honest with theirself, the interior of the whole castle makes them feel vulnerable.

Corrin snaps out of their thoughts once they hear chatter and smell something mouthwatering. Their stomach growls, demanding food.

Sakura giggles and the sound reminds Corrin of small ringing bells. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

Corrin nods dumbly, feeling embarrassment heat their face again.

Then, just as the two approach the dining room, all conversations cease with Sakura’s and Corrin’s arrival. Corrin can feel the instant awkwardness in the air as Sakura almost reluctantly lets go and murmurs her greetings to her siblings. (Corrin isn’t sure if they can call them their siblings yet. Or if they ever will.)

“Good morning.” Queen Mikoto greets, effectively cutting through the tension in the air. Corrin echoes the greeting back to the queen. Then the queen says, “Come, sit with me here.”

At that, the hair on the back of Corrin’s neck rises. There’s an awful sensation of someone glaring holes into Corrin’s back. Apparently someone still isn’t too happy with Corrin existing in the same space as the Hoshidan royal family, not that Corrin can blame them. So Corrin forces a curl of their lips and shuffles in the direction of Queen Mikoto’s voice. What else can they do at this point? All Corrin wants is to eat some food.

A hand grasps Corrin’s.

“Here, here, sit.” Queen Mikoto cajoles, making Corrin sit on the floor next to her. The queen goes as far as to guide Corrin’s hands to the table (which is as low as the one in the house where Rinkah held Corrin) towards the eating utensils—only a pair of sticks. Corrin furrows their brow.

“Um.” Corrin says eloquently, picking up a stick in each hand. “Am I supposed to eat with these?”

That manages a few laughs from Queen Mikoto and a few other occupants, along with a scoff. Corrin’s embarrassment worsens tenfold.

“Did they even teach you how to eat in Nohr?” someone sneers.

“Takumi,” someone else warns—the same voice from last night. Corrin wants to shut out their ears.

“What?” Takumi replies defiantly. A thud swiftly follows. “Ow! That hurt, Hinoka!”

“Be civil and eat your food. You’re still shorter than me, you know.” another voice says, feminine and crackling like fire.

For some reason, Corrin feels relieved for whatever social maneuver the girl—Hinoka—just pulled.

They focus back on their food—and wonder how the hell they’re going to eat it with sticks. It smells fresh, salty, and just a little sour and that’s enough to remind Corrin of their hunger. Can’t they just use their hands? Corrin blurts this aloud to the queen before they can stop theirself. For a moment, Corrin is tempted to poke out their useless eye sockets with the sticks to save theirself from this humiliating misery. This morning is not going well for them at all.

“Of course.” Queen Mikoto says with a hint of amusement.

Corrin is more than a little hesitant, even with the queen’s permission, to touch the food with their bare hands. Then they flinch from the soft, sticky mass of grains. Thankfully Queen Mikoto takes pity on Corrin and names each of the food Corrin examines.

The sticky mass is rice (barely any flavor, but Corrin quickly finds that it’s almost like bread without the jam and butter). Vegetables (fresh from the gardens, apparently). Fish (the meat is soft and easy to break off, but the bones are a hassle). Sauce (which doesn’t have too bad of a flavor but Queen Mikoto says it’s best eaten as seasoning for the fish).

So Corrin takes a handful of rice, peels off pieces of the fish and places them atop of the rice, dabs a bit of the sauce over the whole thing, then eats out of the palm of their hand. Some bits of rice fall out of their hand or stick to Corrin’s face. The queen laughs and cleans Corrin’s face with gentle hands and pats them on the head. Corrin feels ashamed to be treated as a child by someone like the queen of Hoshido. Somehow that reminds Corrin of how Camilla would fret over Corrin’s sloppy eating and clean them up anyway.

They continue eating breakfast that way silently, letting the queen treat Corrin however as she pleases. When Corrin finishes, they thank the queen and the others for their hospitality and the meal and apologize for their terrible table manners. Then they get up and leave the room without another word.

Corrin’s hands are balled into fists in front of them as they leave.

 

* * *

 

When Corrin was shown their room, they were given new clothes to replace their battered armor. The servants had to help Corrin into the new clothes, which were silken to touch and lightweight and easy to move in. But Corrin denied the shoes and socks (they vaguely remember the servants calling the shoes “geta” and socks “tabi”) in favor for their bare feet.

Which is why Corrin almost screams in pain when someone steps on their feet. _Almost._ Corrin nearly bites off their tongue trying to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” a haughty voice unapologetically says, “you should watch where you’re going.”

Corrin recognizes that voice as Takumi from earlier.

“I guess you really are a younger brother if you’re this _immature_.” Corrin bites out through their pain.

Takumi replies with a snarl and a shove that nearly topples Corrin over from the force. But Corrin stands their ground. This is nothing compared to Xander’s most rigorous training regimen.

“I don’t like you either, dear _sibling_ ,” he hisses. “Imagine my shock when Mother told us who you really were.”

Corrin responds with a shove back at his chest. Damn, he’s taller than them. (But not by much, by the way Takumi’s voice sounds at level with Corrin’s head.)

“How is it that I can’t remember you? Oh, that’s right. You weren’t worth remembering.” Corrin sneers sharply.

Takumi grabs their shoulders as his fingers dig painfully into Corrin’s back. The pain shocks Corrin still, much to their frustration.

“I don’t remember you either. Guess I never thought of you worth looking up to.” Then he leans in, whispering fiercely, “You will _always_ be Nohrian scum in my eyes.”

Funny how that seems to apply both literally and figuratively in his case. Not that Corrin particularly cares for this incessantly annoying being.

“ _Child_.” Corrin spits.

“ _Cripple_.” Takumi spits back.

With that, Corrin throws his hands off and lobs a punch at the other’s face. Except someone else grabs their elbow before they can land the hit. Corrin turns to snarl at whoever stopped them but Takumi’s startled response gives Corrin pause.

“A-aniki.”

Corrin distantly remembers reading about familial words from one of Leo’s books on Hoshidan language. Aniki is—

“Takumi. Stand down.” a deep, smooth voice commands. The voice that Corrin keeps connecting to Xander’s.

It belongs to High Prince Ryouma, the eldest of the four royal siblings. Aniki means older brother.

“But aniki, he—”

“No buts. I will talk with you later, Takumi. I wish to speak to Kam—Corrin alone.”

After much grumbling and perhaps some glaring later, Corrin stands alone in the hall with Prince Ryouma. Corrin keeps clenching and unclenching their fists at their sides. All the pent-up frustration within Corrin leaves with Takumi and Corrin isn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Why don’t we talk privately in my room, without ears or eyes snooping on us?”

Corrin ventures a guess that the question is also directed at the two shadowy presences lingering just within Corrin’s field of perception. Why they never stepped in to stop the fight, Corrin doesn’t know. Maybe the two enjoyed spectating Corrin’s and Takumi’s verbal sparring.

Corrin doesn’t dignify Prince Ryouma with a verbal response, only nodding in assent. They follow his footsteps with a slight limp.

 

* * *

 

“So,” Ryouma begins as he links his hands under his chin and stares down Kamui from across the low table, “is there a reason why you decided to pick a fight with my younger brother?”

Kamui doesn’t say anything for a while, hands splayed on the table’s smooth surface.

As much as Kamui’s lack of trust in him tears at his heart, Ryouma must hold strong. But it’s hard, knowing that his long lost sister will never see him with her own two eyes ever again. He holds back the sob building up in his throat and continues staring at Kamui and studying her features.

Two blank eyes stare back at him. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, with bangs covering her forehead. Her jaw seems sharper than a woman’s, and the constant frown on her face worries him. The lighthearted air around Kamui is long gone, replaced with a serious mien. Even the way Kamui carries herself is different—more masculine and aggressive. She has changed much from when they were children. What did Nohr do to his sibling? Anger briefly ignites in his chest at the thought of the damned Nohrians who took his sister and her eyesight. He would destroy them as soon as he got the chance. But before that, he wants his sister back.

“Kamui.” He tries, hoping that she’d respond to her true name.

“I told you, my name is _Corrin_ ,” she replies coldly. Ryouma feels like he’d been gutted.

“Answer my question.” He says, not even trying to be subtle about changing the subject. He mentally notes that he’d have to refer to her as Corrin from now on.

“He belittled me every time he was around me. I merely held myself back up until this point.” Corrin replies.

Ryouma heaves a long-suffering sigh. It seems Takumi still has that insufferable tendency for getting people mad. “Please forgive my foolish brother. He is only wary around strangers.”

Corrin snorts. “Yeah, well his actions go beyond wary. He seems to hate me. Not that I can blame him. After all, I’m Nohrian scum in his eyes.”

Ryouma narrows his eyes. Is that how she interprets Takumi’s treatment? Perhaps his little brother went too far this time. He informs Corrin of this and she scoffs, confusing him further.

“Those were his exact words.” Corrin clarifies. “Do you usually enable him in his vulgar behavior?”

Ryouma freezes. Then he stews in silence, thinking back to all the times Takumi’s acted up. The silence stretches for too long and Corrin takes that as his answer.

“Unbelievable.” She seethes with disgust. “And you claim you want to make up for lost time as a family? Don’t make me laugh.”

Her tone is anything but amused.

“You’re wasting your time.” She says with finality.

Just as Corrin is about to get up, Ryouma scrambles to stop her.

“Wait,” he pleads. “Don’t go.”

Corrin pauses at the change of his tone. She could just leave and Ryouma would let her go, however reluctantly, but deep down he wants her to stay. He wants to apologize for everything that’s happened between them. Would she stay in face of his sincerity? Ryouma doubts it, but he wants to believe that maybe she’d stay.

And stay she does, much to his surprise.

“I’m only staying since you seem… serious.” Corrin says tactfully. _Desperate would’ve been more accurate_ , Ryouma thinks.

Still, he can’t help the grateful grin that stretches across his face.

“Thank you. And I sincerely apologize for my offenses against you. I will get Takumi later to apologize as well. But for now,” Ryouma pauses as he gives Corrin a wider smile (then he realizes that Corrin can’t see it, but smiles anyway), “I would like to spend some time getting to know you. It’s been more than a decade since I last saw you anyway.”

Corrin twists her face into an image of suspicion mixed with confusion. Ryouma laughs at the sight.

“How about we make an exchange, then?” Corrin offers, ignoring his chuckles. “I tell you about myself, you tell me about yourself. After all, I’m still trying to come to terms that you all are my birth family.”

He nods. “Seems amenable. Very well, we shall have this exchange. I shall start with a question: what is a princet?”

Corrin seems shocked from the way she stiffens. She tilts her head at him as if wondering Ryouma has gone mad. It bemuses him.

“You mean you never knew what a princet was? What have they been calling me ever since I got here?”

Ryouma’s brow furrows. “Everyone’s been calling you the long lost princess. Some have confused you for a man and called you prince.”

Corrin groans and rubs her face tiredly. Like she’s dealt with his kind of confusion too many times. “Haven’t there been members of royalty who didn’t fit in the gender binary?”

Now Ryouma is stumped. What are these terms she’s throwing at him? “Gender binary?”

“Oh boy.” Corrin sighs. She rolls her head between her shoulders with a crack. “We’ve got _a lot_ to cover.”

 

* * *

 

As Ryouma and Corrin exit his room, his head churns with all the new information Corrin fed him.

Corrin is gender-neutral, neither woman nor man but in a category all on her— _their_ own. Corrin wants to be referred to as they or them. Their title, princet, is usually reserved for members of royalty who don’t fit in the titles princess or prince. There have been past members of royalty who carried on the same tradition as Corrin does, at least in Nohr. Ryouma isn’t sure if there have been any in Hoshido, but now his curiosity demands him to find out more. After hearing Corrin’s story of discovering their gender (which abates his hatred for Nohr only slightly), Ryouma feels inclined to question his identity as a man. But, for now, he feels comfortable as a man and doesn’t see any reason to change that.

He snaps out of his thoughts at the sound of Corrin’s voice.

“This is where I take my leave.”

Ryouma blinks. “Ah. Are you sure you don’t want to hear Takumi’s apology?”

Corrin waves his concern off. “I will hear it on my own terms. Thank you for offering though.”

He can’t help but pout a little. Ryouma selfishly wants to spend a little more time with them, to make them forget about their Nohrian siblings so that he and his siblings could be their rightful family, but he has other things to do anyway.

“Then, here I bid you good day.”

Corrin nods. “Good day, Ryouma.”

With an annoyed adjustment of their robes, Corrin walks away further into the castle. Ryouma turns, still deep in thought.

Why didn’t he hear of Corrin’s title until recently? He’s always known the Nohrian royal children, but information about Corrin’s wellbeing was ridiculously scarce. In fact, all he knows is—

Then he realizes too late that all he’s learned from Corrin is their new gender identity and nothing else. He was too caught up in the radical information that he didn’t even think of it until now. By the time he whirls around, Corrin is long gone.

He punches the nearest wall out of sheer frustration.

Ryouma storms off to find some peace before finding Takumi.

 

* * *

 

“Kamui.”

Corrin freezes at the name. They bodily turn towards the general direction of the soft, crackling voice.

“Princess Hinoka, right?” Corrin ventures.

Some awkward silence before Hinoka replies with, “Uh, yes. Would you, um, like some tea with me?”

Corrin raises an eyebrow at Hinoka’s insecurity in her voice. Where did her confidence from breakfast go? Suddenly Corrin remembers Ryoma telling them of Hinoka’s fierce dedication. Maybe she’s nervous about meeting her long lost sibling for the first time. But Corrin honestly feels awkward about this whole affair. Even if they’ve opened up to Ryouma (if only to school him on gender), they still don’t feel comfortable around him or anyone else in this castle.

“Forgive me, but I’m a little exhausted. I was heading to my room for some rest.”

They can _feel_ the waves of disappointment from Hinoka before she says anything.

“Oh.” Her voice sounds so dejected that it guilts Corrin for turning her down. “Perhaps another time, then?”

Corrin nods. “Of course.”

Not that they plan to follow up on that promise. Corrin swiftly but carefully walks away with a slight limp, fiercely wishing to be home again.

Then again, Corrin isn’t sure where _home_ is anymore.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooo this chapter came out faster than I expected. so... yeah, Corrin doesn't trust the Hoshidan family. at _all_. i feel bad for the Hoshidan family, they're trying their best. :'| also this chapter is like 3k words??? incredible.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Corrin fights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for misgendering and use of dead name. Takumi still can't get over Corrin's blindness either.

 

 

 

Corrin is only just around the corner when they hear the footsteps.

Curious, Corrin walks further down the hallway, barely guessing where the walls and doors are. They make another turn, and the footsteps dutifully follow. Not as heavy as the princes or Princess Hinoka, but not as light as Princess Sakura’s. The sound of Kaze’s footsteps flashes through Corrin’s mind and they start to connect the dots.

Another ninja? How many of them are prowling this place?

“Princet Corrin?” a feminine voice inquires. Not the princesses nor the Queen.

Corrin doesn’t turn around when they ask, “Who’s this?”

“My name is Kagerou. I am a retainer of Lord Ryouma’s.”

Huh. Are ninjas so great that even princes like Ryouma will employ them as his retainers? All the more reason to be wary of her and Kaze now—and whoever was the second presence with him in that hall from the fight with Takumi. Then Corrin notices something.

Corrin turns in the direction of Kagerou’s voice. “Did you eavesdrop on me and Prince Ryouma?”

If Ryouma’s observations are correct, then not many other people should be calling Corrin a Princet—only Princess or Prince. (Not that Corrin really minds, but this is one of those days that they’d really like to feel secure about their gender identity.)

“It is my duty to be at milord’s side at all times to ensure his safety and good health.” she diplomatically replies.

“So you did eavesdrop.” Corrin says bluntly. The hold back the frustrated sigh. “Are ninjas of your caliber usually that sneaky?”

“I must be invisible. Otherwise, I would not be here.” Kagerou states. “I wonder how you noticed me, though.”

“I don’t have eyes to track you, so it’s not the fault of your invisibility thing or whatever.” Corrin turns around fully to face in the direction towards Kagerou and taps their left ear. “I heard your footsteps. I have pretty sensitive hearing.”

The ninja makes a thoughtful noise. “I see. I shall keep that in mind.”

Corrin can’t help but wonder. “Are you gonna tell the rest of your ninja people to buy shoes with softer soles? Please don’t—the noise they make is strange and itchy.”

Corrin would know—Elise practicing ballet has always been an auditory nightmare for them. They shudder at the memory of sitting in the practice room with Elise, listening to that awful sound of ballet shoes scraping over smooth wood. Maybe it was the sound of the leather in the soles that drove Corrin crazy?

“Duly noted.” Kagerou’s voice pulls Corrin out from their brief reverie.

They nod, if only out of courtesy. “Alright. If that’s all…”

Corrin turns back to wander when Kagerou is at their side the next moment. She moves like the wind—graceful, swift, and deadly. Wow. Kaze’s got nothing on her speed. (Then again, he held back the last time Corrin witnessed his speed.)

“Please excuse me, but I wish to escort you back to your room.” Kagerou says. “You did mention that you were tired, correct?”

Of course Kagerou heard their exchange with Hinoka. Why is Corrin not surprised by this?

“I can find my own room…” Corrin assures, then pauses. “I think.”

“Allow me to escort you, Princet Corrin.” She returns in a tone that’s more commanding than suggestive.

They sigh and their shoulders slump forward. These people are relentless.

“O…kay.” Corrin manages. “Okay, then.”

“Follow me.” Kagerou says, her footsteps leading in a different direction. Corrin wonders if it’s too late to turn back and run for it.

Except she can read minds, apparently. Corrin jolts and yelps when a hand wraps around one of their wrists and drags Corrin along. The girl’s fast and merciless like Kaze.

Speaking of Kaze, she kinda smells like him but the scent is different enough to not be Kaze. Corrin is reminded of the times when serving girls would sometimes have another person’s scent on them for some reason. Whatever Kagerou has going on is probably none of Corrin’s business. Still, what’s her deal with Corrin anyway?

Corrin notices a different smell—something fresh and floral.

“Why are you taking me to the gardens?” Corrin asks, but Kagerou’s grip tightens around their wrist as a warning.

She leans down low, forcing Corrin on their knees with her, and whispers, “Stay quiet, and listen.”

 

* * *

 

It takes a while for Ryouma to gather his wits again.

He feels the inadequacy from his childhood creep back into his life again after his failed meeting with Corrin. Figures, he starts to remember his ugly jealousy towards his younger sibling. He thought he’d finally settled his feelings on the matter long ago—apparently he did not.

Corrin has always been a leader. People naturally flocked to Corrin, trusted Corrin. Ryouma had to put in blood, sweat, and tears for that same quality. And his most recent encounter with Corrin just proves how he continues to trail behind his sibling.

_Even when blind, Corrin is better than him._

Ryouma dispels that thought before it gets any uglier than it is. He leans against the open doorframe leading out to the gardens.

“Takumi.”

He doesn’t budge from his spot on the bench—he just keeps staring at the maple tree planted in a corner.

“Takumi,” Ryouma calls again. This time his brother turns around, glowering all the while. “Feeling any better?”

He scoffs. “Does it look like it?”

Ryouma shrugs. “I’m told that appearances can be deceiving.”

Then he pushes away from his spot and casually strolls over to Takumi’s bench. His brother scowls at him before stubbornly turning away as Ryouma takes a seat beside him. Ryouma’s never been good with these kinds of things. Usually Sakura would help Takumi calm down, but Ryouma doesn’t want her getting tangled up in this drama. Hinoka’s temper would get the best of her before she could even begin to broach this kind of subject.

“So,” Ryouma starts, “mind telling me why you picked a fight with Corrin?”

Takumi makes a disgusted noise. “Is that her new name?”

“Corrin likes to be referred to as they.” Takumi whips around to stare at Ryouma like he’s grown a second head. “So I’m told.”

His brother faces the maple again with a scoff. “ _Nohrian_. Through and through.”

Ryouma carefully notices how Takumi spits the word out like it’s an unwanted disease. They both share a mutual dislike for Nohr, but Ryouma keeps his hatred under control while Takumi lets his fester like an infection. It’s worrisome. No wonder Corrin didn’t believe it when Ryouma said he wanted to make up for lost time—some part of him can’t look past the Nohrian influence on Corrin.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he notes.

Takumi doesn’t look at Ryouma. Instead, he glares down at the clenched fists in his lap like they’ve offended him. Maybe Ryouma’s question did offend Takumi.

“What do you think?” Takumi snarls. “Our sister comes back blind and with a different name and… _everything_.” Takumi’s voice loses some of its vitriol and withers down to a mumble as his shoulders slump. “Everything about her is different.”

Ryouma cocks an eyebrow. “And you thought fighting Corrin was good idea?”

Takumi splutters and throws his hands up in defeat. “What the hell am I supposed to do?! I wanted her back as _Kamui_ , not Corrin. I was mad and I took that out on her.”

“ _Them_.” Ryouma corrects belatedly. Then, “Takumi, you cannot expect a person to stay the same for over a decade. Especially not Corrin, and you know that.”

Chastened, his brother lowers his head. But Ryouma sees the frustration in his trembling fists and furrowed brow.

“Kamui is no longer the same person we knew. No matter how angry you are about that, that does not excuse your behavior towards Corrin.”

Takumi scoffs and glances at Ryouma. A bitter smirk twists his lips. “Were you looking forward to this reunion with Corrin instead of Kamui, aniki?”

Ryouma doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns to admire the elegant cherry blossom tree near the wall enclosing the garden. Its stark branches stand out against the pale wall like an ink painting on a fresh scroll. Then he changes the subject. “You both need to apologize to each other.”

“I’m not about to say sorry to someone who doesn’t care about it.” Takumi snarls. “And you—”

“If you’re not going to apologize, why don’t we duke it out?”

Both brothers’ heads snap towards the doorway, where Corrin stands. They cross their arms over their chest.

“Let’s spar. Then we’ll talk after.”

 

* * *

 

Kagerou leans against the wall not far from Princet Corrin, hidden from Lords Ryouma and Takumi.

She can’t help the satisfied smile on her lips.

Then she slips away before anyone notices. Lord Ryouma will surely scold her—might as well put it off for later. So that she can deeply reflect on the consequences of her actions, of course. And by reflecting, she means watching the upcoming match.

 

* * *

 

Ryouma sighs and rubs his face tiredly. He has a gut feeling one of his retainers did this.

He isn’t sure about Saizou, since he’s too hotheaded to play tricks, but Kagerou is another story. Her loyalty to Ryouma and calm demeanor aside, Kagerou is close friends with _Orochi_. Some of Orochi’s mischievousness must have rubbed off on Kagerou, if her occasional quips at Saizou are anything to go by.

Though, he’s also curious to see how Corrin would fare against Takumi. And perhaps they each might let go of their anger at each other in the process. One can only hope.

“I just hope they don’t rip each other’s throats out,” he mumbles to himself.

Then Ryouma trails after a fired up Takumi and a suspiciously eager Corrin.

 

* * *

 

Corrin tests the feel and weight of the practice sword. Its smooth wood barely betrays the battering the sword’s taken over time. There are numerous nicks along the edge. The rough cotton bandages is supposed to help with grip. Corrin’s fingers skim along the length of the wood, studying its reach (which is average, like a typical sword) and its durability (which is still strong, but Corrin will have to watch the force of their hits).

“Are you done standing around?” Takumi grumbles.

Corrin tries a few swings and slashes. They’re a little slower than usual, but Corrin will have to try to work around that.

“Are you deaf too?”

Well there goes any chances of mercy for Takumi. After this, he won’t be making those kinds of comments anymore.

Corrin hums noncommittally and walks over that only a few feet separate them from him.

“Ready whenever you are.” They say with a careless tone. “And don’t hold back because I’m blind. By all means, come at me with everything you have.”

Takumi scoffs. “Yeah, and that’ll be too easy for me to win.”

He’s doing a _great_ job at provoking Corrin.

“That’s what I should be saying.” Corrin returns. They spread open their arms. “Look, I’ll even let you have the first strike. I’m making this _easy_ for you.”

Corrin grins when they hear his irritation before his footsteps.

They avoid the first wild swing and slide into a defensive stance to parry the second one. Takumi’s breathing is steady, if not slightly offbeat from his anger. Corrin patiently parries and blocks his erratic swings, listening for an opening.

In the extra beat after his fifth swing, Corrin strikes back.

Takumi’s hasty defense blocks Corrin, but they push hard against Takumi with the force of their swings. He is forced back a step or two and struggles to maintain his defense in the face of Corrin’s unrelenting attacks. The force at their weapons clashing would jar Corrin if they aren’t so focused on beating the crap out of Takumi.

A lucky swing from Takumi nearly hits Corrin’s side, but Corrin barely dodges it. The dynamic of the match shifts into Takumi’s favor again once he’s on the offensive. Instead of just parrying and blocking, Corrin uses evasive maneuvers to escape the worst of his strikes.

In a sudden burst of ambition, Corrin dodges a fast jab and ducks behind (well, they hope it’s his back) Takumi. His startled cry confirms that Corrin is behind him. They strike.

The wind whips across Corrin’s face as his blade blocks theirs.

In another burst of ambition, Corrin tries to pull off one of Xander’s disarming tricks. They twist their sword enough to force Takumi off-balance, then Corrin shoves hard. His yelp and clattering of wood against ground means that Corrin must’ve done something right.

Except their sword isn’t in their hands anymore. It slips from their grip with Takumi’s.

There’s an awkward pause between them.

“…Oh.” Corrin eloquently says.

“Huh.” Takumi intelligently replies.

Another pause.

Then Corrin takes a swipe at Takumi’s face. It misses him (unfortunately) and Corrin hears him splutter.

“What the hell?!”

He takes a swipe at Corrin too, but Corrin blocks it with their forearm. Their arm twinges but Corrin ignores it.

“You any good at hand-to-hand combat?” They ask, hands already balling into fists.

“Decent.” Takumi takes a step back. “Ready whenever you are.”

Corrin lunges.

 

* * *

 

Hinata lets out a low whistle of admiration. “Wow.”

Oboro elbows his side, making Hinata yelp and whine. “You’re supposed to be cheering for Lord Takumi!”

“I can’t help it if Princet Corrin can fight like that!” Hinata replies, wildly gesturing to Corrin’s fierce jabs. “They’re pretty good.”

Oboro makes a disgusted face. “Princet Corrin fights like a _Nohrian_.”

“Lord Takumi will have a taste of how a Nohrian fights, then.” Kagerou replies, watching the match. “Better to experience it during practice than out in the battlefield.”

Oboro huffs and crosses her arms. “I _guess_. I still don’t like them though.”

“Neither do I.” Saizou agrees, glaring at Princet Corrin.

Oboro turns to stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “I can’t believe you actually agreed with me on something.”

Saizou doesn’t make another comment, leaving her to huff in annoyance and turn her attention back to the match. But then Oboro and Hinata start shouting.

“What the hell?! Lord Takumi is losing?!” Oboro screeches.

“That’s impossible!” Hinata yells and pulls at his hair.

“What did you expect? He underestimated Princet Corrin and now he’s paying the price for it.” Kagerou calmly states, never breaking her gaze from the match. Both of Takumi’s retainers turn to glare at her.

Kaze makes a noise of agreement. He steadily ignores the twin glares of Oboro and Hinata burning holes into him. “He’s letting his emotions get the better of him.”

“Good observation, Kagerou, Kaze.”

The group of retainers whip around to see Prince Ryouma placidly watching the match as if he’s observing cherry blossom flowers instead of his two siblings viciously fighting each other. Kaze pales drastically and Kagerou looks like she swallowed her tongue. Oboro, Hinata, and Saizou all freeze, unsure of how to react. More than that, they all wonder how they didn’t notice one of their masters standing beside them the entire time.

“L-lord Ryouma.” Kagerou stutters. _Stutters_. “Please forgive my—”

Prince Ryouma raises a hand, silencing Kagerou. “No need. You are right in that Takumi tends to underestimate his opponents. He still has much to learn, it seems.”

He turns his gaze to smile at Oboro and Hinata. The two stand at attention and collectively gulp nervously.

“Thank you for your faith in Takumi. Please continue to take care of my little brother.” Prince Ryouma says, then turns his gaze back to the match.

The retainers uneasily turn back to observe the match, this time without as much commentary.

Until Oboro and Hinata holler again.

“Lord Takumi, stop dodging and hit back!” Oboro yells, wildly pointing as if that’d help.

“You’re making us look bad!” Hinata shouts, flailing his arms in frustration.

 

* * *

 

The match ends with a draw.

Takumi and Ka- Corrin collapse on the ground, each greedily sucking in air.

“Your retainers,” Corrin comments, “are… interesting.”

Takumi groans and covers his face. He blames the heat in his cheeks from exertion. “Shut up.”

Corrin huffs a few laughs.

They lay on the ground as they quiet catch their breaths. Takumi’s body aches all over from the swordfight and the resulting fistfight.

“Hey Takumi?” Corrin says, still a little out of breath.

“Yeah?”

“I take back what I said. Sorry.”

Takumi grumbles and his cheeks feel hotter than before. He really pushed himself in that fistfight. “Whatever.”

“I really wish I could’ve remembered you.” Corrin says. “We could’ve been close when we were young.”

“If it helps, I don’t remember you all that well either.” Takumi replies. He shrugs. “I only remembered what happened after you were gone.”

Corrin is quiet for a bit, then, “Oh. Okay.”

Takumi doesn’t like the pensiveness in the air so he blurts out, “How are you that good at fighting if you’re blind?”

“It’s ‘cause I have sensitive hearing and I can feel the air surrounding the blows.” Corrin replies honestly, ignoring his jab. “Your attacks were all over the place.”

“This is coming from the person who can’t even disarm opponents right.” Takumi snaps back.

Corrin splutters. Takumi grins widely. This is a victory over the person everyone likes to fawn over, no matter how minor (or petty, in this case) it is.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried my hand at humor?? shrugs
> 
> leave a kudos/comment if you liked this chapter! :)


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